


Of Nantes and Paris

by Jathis, YodaBen2



Category: Beauty and the Beast (2017)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Catholic Rosary, Decapitation, Drowning, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, French Revolution, Happy Ending, Horror, M/M, Nightmares, Prayer, Religion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-17
Updated: 2020-02-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:20:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22767646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jathis/pseuds/Jathis, https://archiveofourown.org/users/YodaBen2/pseuds/YodaBen2
Summary: Stanley cannot sleep after hearing about what is happening in the rest of France.
Relationships: LeFou & Stanley (Disney: Beauty and the Beast), LeFou/Stanley (Disney: Beauty and the Beast)
Kudos: 3





	Of Nantes and Paris

**Author's Note:**

  * For [YodaBen2](https://archiveofourown.org/users/YodaBen2/gifts).



They were labeled enemies of the people. Villeneuve’s continuation of allowing itself to be ruled by a prince showed that the people from there were foolish. Not only were they foolish but they obviously held sympathetic views towards the enemy of France and her children. They were accused and tried as spies, their protests and pleas ignored by the shouting people around them.

Lefou and Stanley were kept in separate cells, forbidden from even sending messages to each other. Stanley paced helplessly in his own cell, his chest hurting with every passing moment without Lefou. What was happening to Lefou? Was he okay? Was he being fed? Stanley looked over at the hard black bread he had been given that morning and shivered, hugging himself. He could only hope that Lefou was okay.

He heard shouting and cheering coming from the single window in his cell. He bit his lip, staying where he was. He didn’t want to look out his window. He didn’t want to see what was happening outside. It was too much. It reminded him of when they had gone to the castle on the hunt for a beast…

Stanley looked up when his cell door was opened. Two armed guards stepped inside and he braced himself, trying to keep his face as passive as possible. “Bonjour, messieurs,” he whispered.

“The people are celebrating today! Madame Guillotine has given more kisses this morning to your kind.”

He shook his head as one of the guards approached, “I’m not…”

“Don’t you want to see what they’re cheering about?” the other asked with a smile. “Have you ever seen the celebration after one of her sessions?”

“Please…” Stanley winced and yelped as he was pushed towards the window. He didn’t know why they were so insistent for him to look but he knew that whatever it was he didn’t want to see. He tried to lash out but was grabbed by the other, both of his arms twisted behind his back as they shoved him forward now.

“Here he is! Here’s the lover! Let him see his love in all of his glory!”

He couldn’t close his eyes. He was frozen, his face pressed against the bars of the window. There were heads. Heads on long poles. Blood was dripping down the wood as the poles were waved around. “Please...please, non…” he whispered.

“Let him give his lover one last kiss! One last kiss!”

Tears fell down his cheeks as Lefou’s head was brought towards the window. He let out a strangled cry, trying to pull away, struggling against the two men keeping him in place. “Non, non please!” He could see that Lefou’s eyes were still open, his face slack as if he were asleep. He wept as the head was brought closer to his face.

***

Lefou was woken up by Stanley’s shrieks. He sat up with a gasp, looking around for any danger that would make him scream. He frowned when he saw nothing and looked over to see what Stanley was fast asleep, thrashing and trembling. “Stanley! Stanley, wake up! Wake up! You’re only dreaming! Stanley!”

The younger man woke up with a violent shudder, nearly shoving himself and Lefou off of the bed. His chest was heaving as he stared up at Lefou with wide eyes, struggling to catch his breath. “Lefou..?”

“Oui, it’s me. You’re okay,” Lefou promised. He blinked when Stanley suddenly sat up, hugging him tightly and weeping on his shoulder. “Shhh...easy, chouchou. Easy...it was a dream. All a dream,” he soothed, rubbing Stanley’s back in slow circles.

“I saw… We were in Paris… They called us… They killed you! They killed you and put your head on a pole and they..! They were forcing me to kiss it on the lips and..!”

“Shhh…” Lefou took Stanley’s hands into his own and placed the palms on his neck and shoulders. “Look. You see? I am still alive. My head is still firmly attached to the rest of me. I’m not dead. We’re in Villeneuve not Paris, my love.”

Stanley sniffled, struggling to control his weeping as he felt around Lefou’s throat to reassure himself that his love wasn’t actually decapitated. He bowed his head, his lower lip trembling. “I was so scared,” he whispered.

“I know.”

“I had a dream like this last night too,” he confessed.

“You did?” Lefou asked. Stanley nodded and he frowned. “I didn’t hear you.”

“I kept it inside as best as I could,” Stanley murmured. He sniffed, holding still as Lefou wiped away his tears. “Last night I dreamt we were in Nantes. We were given a Republic wedding and the water was so cold and the ropes were cutting into us and I couldn’t…”

“Hush,” Lefou whispered, stroking Stanley’s cheek. He knew what Stanley was talking about. He had also heard about the mass drownings, people stripped naked and dumped in the middle of the water while tightly bound. A Republic wedding was when two people were bound together to drown as one. “Hush now. We are both very much alive and we shall stay that way. This I swear to you. Do you believe me?”

“I believe you,” Stanley whispered with a small nod.

Lefou smiled, kissing Stanley’s forehead. “I’ll make you some tea to help calm your nerves, okay?”

Stanley hugged Lefou’s pillow as the older man left the room. He shivered, burying his face against the soft material. Both dreams had felt so real. He had been so certain that he was being drowned or forced to kiss Lefou’s dead head. Fresh tears fell at the very thought and he bit his lip, trying to control himself.

“Here we are!” Lefou came back with a cup, sitting down and pressing it into Stanley’s hands. “A nice cup of nettle tea.” He didn’t bother mentioning the liberal amount of alcohol he had added to the tea, guiding the cup to Stanley’s lips to encourage him to drink. “There we go. Just relax and drink. I am here. I am here and so are you. We are both alive and together in Villeneuve. Nothing can hurt us out here.”

Eventually Stanley was eased back to sleep, helped by Lefou’s soothing voice and the spiked tea. Lefou stroked his head tenderly, watching him for a few minutes before allowing himself to lay down beside him. He already knew what he needed to do in the morning but for now he needed to be with Stanley.

***

“We need to talk. You and me. Now.” Lefou grabbed the messenger’s arm before he could say anything, dragging him into an alley where no one could see or hear them. “You’ve been talking about what’s happening outside of our home.”

“It’s important for everyone to know!”

“Non, not when it’s just more horror stories everyday,” Lefou said with a shake of his head. “Drownings, shootings, and the guillotine! Every story is the same! All it does is put fear into our people!”

“But the Revolution…”

“If there is any actual development or major change, I want you to tell  _ me  _ about it first. Do you understand? No one else but me.”

“Why?”

“Because someone I care about dearly is having nightmares and we are far away from all of this violence and death. We have no reason to hear of such things every day.”

The young man blushed but nodded his head. “Okay,” he agreed. 

“Bon,” Lefou nodded, finally letting him go. “No more horror stories.” With that he walked out of the alley, smoothing out his clothes and fixing the ribbon he wore around his neck as he made his way to the church. He already knew he would find Stanley there and he was proven right when he stepped inside and found him lighting candles, his rosary wrapped around his fingers as his lips moved in soft prayer. “Stanley,” he said softly. He looked over and saw that Stanley had been lighting the candles in front of St Anthony of Padua, known for being a patron saint to the oppressed.

Stanley looked up as Lefou approached, humming before blowing out the long match he had been using to light the candles. “Hello, mon coeur. I was just lighting candles for those people,” he said.

“Does it make you feel better doing so?” Lefou asked, placing a hand on the small of his back. He smiled when Stanley nodded his head, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I’m glad. I’m sure the prayers are appreciated, my love.”

“You think so?” Stanley asked, unable to hide the hope in his voice.

“Of course.”

Stanley seemed to sigh in relief. Some kind of weight came off of his shoulders. He raised his hands and clasped them together, praying for the people who had died so far.

Lefou listened silently, allowing Stanley to calm himself with prayer. He led him out of the church when he was finished, helping to ease the horrid images out of Stanley’s head with one of his songs.


End file.
